The trailing offspring became a trailing spouse - and life keeps changing

Sunday, 4 June 2006

Suitability

Monday 4 June 2007

It’s strange, I hadn’t really thought, before the operation, about the fact that my sex would have a new appearance. At a certain moment I had even lost the point that my clitoris would resume its place between my labia. I had never thought about it.

And today, presented with my new-found clitoris, I admit I am troubled.

Since the operation I have been cleaning it delicately with compresses soaked in dilute iodine, I have been observing it discretely during this intimate toilet, and I have been noticing its reactions when I spray it with water, I’ve been watching the progress of its appearance, I’ve been watching out for signs when I am walking, sitting or lying down. But it intimidates me.

The operation for reconstruction of the clitoris isn’t a transplant, I know that, but in my mind it seems very like it.

When I brought up my operation in therapy, I often said “I am going to have a clitoris”. And my therapist corrected me: “No, not A clitoris, My clitoris”. In the same way, when I said “I don’t have a clitoris” she said to me that the sentence would be true if I had been born without a clitoris. So, I have one. It has been cut, but I have one.

But see, that’s 27 years I was brought up during which time I can’t remember having a clitoris at all. It really is like someone having given me a transplant of a new organ.

At the moment, quite honestly, I can’t really feel it. By that I mean to say that I only very rarely and fleetingly feel that the layout of my genital area has changed.

I find it very noticeable on the other hand, when I walk and I feel my clitoris, I have a sort of reflex which makes me spread my legs a little and so walk very slightly like a duck, which is the ultimate chic.

The other day, for the first time, I dared to explore the contours of my clitoris directly, with my fingers without a compress. I touched it timidly and lightly, being very careful not to trouble it too much (I was afraid of feeling a painful pang or I don’t know what else unpleasant, the area between my labia majora still being quite sensitive).

What this exploration has taught me is that at the moment my clitoris is held “out of the water” by stitches on two sides (in front and behind the labia majora, not just in front as I thought before). That reassured me because I found it somewhat large.

The question which I intend to ask Dr Foldès this week is: “and what about my labia minora?”. Because it’s a bit of a mess and with all these stitches, I can’t distinguish my labia minora (nevertheless I’m dedicating a long time to investigate these places).

I’ve refound my clitoris, but I still need to make its acquaintance , something which isn’t obvious in view of how it impresses me. Well, all the same, I notice a new intimacy between us, in its own way. And I think that’s great.